


Moon Festival

by Enchantedtalisman



Series: Enchantingly Queer Original Works [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Humanoid Forms, Implied Utopia, M/M, Magic, Magical Bonds, Phoenixes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Every five thousand years the Moon grows close, making any and all blessings some of the strongest and long lasting ever.





	Moon Festival

**Author's Note:**

> This year has accumulated my whole life to being a fire pit, but I'm just gonna write a bunch of queer fiction, cuz that's at least something happy I can bring into my life.
> 
> ...I'll probably edit it in the morning, since I just wrote it right now...probably edit it, if I remember too.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Velovin had drunk too much, his kimono was splashed with drink—a fruity concoction that Oliven didn’t know the name of.

Thankfully, Oliven had caught him before he stumbled. For the most part even keeping Velovin from making _too_ much of a spectacle of himself.

“This—thisss,” Velovin points widely at the dancers, the people (Humans (like Velovin), Kitsunes, Phoenixes (like Oliven), Half-Humans, Djinn, Sphinxes and a myriad of other races) walking through the amusements that filled the streets, “Is amazing.” He exhales harshly at the end as if to emphasis his sentence.

Oliven chuckles, “You’re so drunk right now, love.”

“Yeppp.” Velovin rubs at his mouth and then pecks Oliven on the cheek, “Do you know what you’re going to wish for?” He waves pointedly at the Moon that’s the closest it will ever be for the next five thousand years. Glowing mystically.

Magic is the only thing keeping the Moon from crashing down on top of them. Every five thousand years it grows close, making any and all blessings some of the strongest and long lasting ever. In a Utopia where most races have forgone warfare, where the sick are held up by the community rather than put down, and a long list of magical devices and transportation that makes life more survivable for everyone; there are very few blessings either of them could think of.

Oliven hums in thought, “If I tell you, will you tell me yours?” He watches Velovin shake his head furiously and then close vibrant blue eyes, grimacing in distaste. “Maybe don’t do that again.” Oliven offers only to have to dodge a swipe at his head.

“Ergh,” Velovin responds and leans against Oliven and looks up, light ochre skin glistening in the moonlight, “Tell me.”

“Well, you don’t want to live forever.” Oliven says thoughtfully. He will miss Velovin, fifty years have already gone by and to a phoenix thirty years of being with someone hardly feels like anything at all. But more importantly he wants to respect his partner’s wishes.

“Mmm.” Velovin agrees. He smiles up at Oliven, “You never know, you might find me again.” He says cheerfully.

Which, maybe, Oliven has found Velovin twice, once when he was two hundred years old, a thousand and three hundred years ago, and again thirty years ago. He’s loved him twice now, and a piece of him will always be apart of Velovin.

Oliven laces his olive-toned fingers in-between Velovin’s, and starts moving through the crowd. The magic in the air is growing, his own fire, air, and life magic thrums in union to the moon’s pull. His whole being lighting up to the call of the celestial body above them. “What do you want, Velovin?” He doesn’t say something like _I would give you the world_ , phrasing is important today.

“I dunno.” Velovin says, again with far too much cheer.

More than it should be, it’s tempting to drop Velovin right then, but Oliven refrains. Instead he continues walking, the crowd is growing a melodious rhythm, as if even the people who don’t study magic can feel the echoing effect of the moon’s grace.

The two men each play a game each—somehow Velovin gets each dart through the waterballoons even while barely able to hold himself up. Oliven would suspect magic if he didn’t know that Velovin didn’t have the concentration to use it.

For his own game, Oliven transforms into his phoenix form (and enjoys Velovin’s surprised yelp when he has no one to lean on and tumbles to the ground in a heap of cloth and verbal pouting) and chases an automated robotic bird that has several other shifters chasing after it. He doesn’t win but stretching his wings, feeling the moon’s pulsing against his fire-feathers is amazing. There’s an ache inside of him where Velovin _could_ be but the man doesn’t want a bond—because a bond means living forever in one state, one life.

When Oliven transforms again in front of Velovin, he’s amused to see the man still in a pile on the floor. “Here, get up” He offers a hand and laughs at Velovin’s scowling face.

“That’s what you get for dropping me.” Velovin takes the proffered appendage, and groans. He presses his forehead against Oliven’s bare chest for a moment, breathing in and out. “I think I’m going to hurl.”

“Not on me you’re not.” Oliven says, but runs a magic-warmed hand across Velovin’s neck and head, relaxing the muscles with long practice. Velovin’s not the only one of his many lovers over the years who had enjoyed drinking during celebrations.

Velovin groans in relief and places several kisses across Oliven’s neck. “Thank you.” He sighs against Oliven’s throat.

Oliven shivers in pleasure at each kiss, and breath against his skin. He combs his fingers through Velovin’s hair and barely notices when the magic in the air comes to a peak.

Sound lowers as if thousands of people are in sync, and magic rises into the air glimmering in different colors; reds, blues, golds, silvers.

“Make a wish,” Velovin says raising his head, and kissing Oliven on the lips.

Oliven kisses back hungrily, his chest aching because he can’t have the one wish he wants. He feels a slight surge in his magic but nothing else. His mind races for something. Anything to wish for Velovin’s sake at least, something that the man can know how much Velovin means to Oliven.

Nothing comes to mind. Oliven clenches his hands against Velovin trying to pure all the love he feels for the man in this one kiss that doesn’t feel like enough.

A moment later the silver glow of the moon dissipates, and people slowly return to their earlier cheer.

Another odd tugging sensation settles in place, and Oliven feels a hint of disappointment, which is odd, because he already feels disappointed—then wonder. Wonder and amazement fills him and he has to open his eyes when Velovin pulls away from the kiss.

“There.” Velovin says, licking his swollen lips and grinning at Oliven. “So you know where I am, forever.” A surge of happiness runs up through Oliven at that.

Happiness and emotions that aren’t Oliven’s own, “Oh.” Oliven feels faint of heart, and he can’t help the tears or the smile on his face. A bond without having to live forever. He feels silly for not thinking of it himself.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” Velovin rubs his thumbs against Oliven’s cheeks, and kisses him again, “Where-ever I am you’ll find me.”

“Forever?” Oliven asks, hiccuping on the words, the happiness inside of him, and the way that it’s matched by Velovin’s. The man who’s been the best thing to happen to him in fifteen hundred years of living and fire-days.

“Forever.” Velovin promises.

Moonlight shines on both of them at that moment, and Oliven can’t deny how beautiful Velovin looks in that moment. Like a celestial body, like a star burning bright. The first touch of his magic, his first fire-day when he burst forth from fire and ashes to breathe again.

“Forever.” Oliven whispers back and leans into Velovin’s gentle touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is so short I figure I'd add some notes in case anything is too confusing;
> 
> Creature-species like Sphynx and Phoenixes' etc have a humanoid form with debatably exotic looks i.e. phoenix feathers across their hair, or down their back.
> 
> Fire-days are the days Phoenixes die and rise from the ashes, incase that wasn't self-explanatory.
> 
> Most Eternal/Immortal creatures (Elves, Phoenixes, Kitsunes) can bond with their potential mate (not a soulmate, just a person they love enough to want to live forever with...so permanent marriage) and if they aren't a race with immortal-life spans, share their partner's immortality.
> 
> Yes the world is a utopian world, because I'm sick of this particular world we live in. Don't care if it's boring that way, I want it, I wrote it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope at least someone else enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3


End file.
